


and yet they find kindness (so do you)

by WriterWinged



Series: old gods (new gods) [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Mentions of past temporary character death, Other Character Tags to be Added - Freeform, also someone fixed Technoblade's tag!, go tag wranglers!, the tags will be added to, there are probably other things that I should tag but my brain is not cooperating, there will so many, we have a 'Dream SMP Ensemble' tag!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterWinged/pseuds/WriterWinged
Summary: A new god rises and old gods change. The world shakes under the strength of bonds forged unknowingly and actions taken unthinkingly. When cruelty is tempered by kindness, the weave of fate changes.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: old gods (new gods) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018470
Comments: 65
Kudos: 667





	1. the sun rises, and the rays are bright

**Author's Note:**

> woohoo! the sequel past one is done! part two is about half done. also if you're new here, you should definitely read part one for context.
> 
> the working title for this chapter was 'Direct Aftermath'

“Wilbie? Techie?” Tommy’s voice, weak and roughened, jolted all three of the Gods right out of their grief.

“Tommy? Oh, Tommy… Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, you’re alright, you’re alive!” Wilbur whispers hoarsely, hunching out as relief rushes through him. Techno makes a heart-broken sound, one of his hands coming up to cradle the side of Tommy’s face, the other not leaving the still sluggishly bleeding wound.

“Dad?” The teen’s eyes roll to the side, still hazy with pain but recognizing the wings from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here kiddo,” Phil’s head gently smooths back the fluff of Tommy’s bangs, a soft smile on his face.

“Tired… hurts…”

“It’s okay, you can go to sleep. Promise we’ll be right here when you wake up.” Tommy’s eyes slowly flicker closed, he’d always trust his dad. He’d never lied to him before. Even as he fell into an exhausted slumber, his heart beat in a strong rhythm, so different from only a few moments ago.

Slowly, Philza looked up from the sleeping form of his youngest and into the eyes of the ram standing several meters away. For a long moment, the two stared at each other before Philza glanced away, back down at his sons. 

He moved to stand, one hand slipping under Tommy’s knees and the other under his shoulders, pulling him into his arms. Phil cradles his youngest close to his chest as his other sons scramble to their feet. He pays none of the others any mind, his footsteps sure and swift as he begins to move towards the Nether Portal.

“Wait!” The sudden cry has him stopping in his tracks, a glance over his shoulder revealing that the boy the ram had been protecting had managed to slip in front of him, “Is Tommy… will he be alright?” The boy’s voice was shaky and soft, tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes.

The God of Survival regards him will apathetic eyes, not a spark of warmth in his gaze. He offered the boy a nod, then turned and continued to walk to the portal, his sons sticking close to his sides. Ascending the blackstone steps, he came to a stop at the top.

There, standing in front of him, was Dream, along with George and Sapnap. They stared each other down, Dream’s face revealing nothing, Philza’s completely blank.

“Will you be returning to the SMP?”

“That depends on my son. If he wants to, then we will follow,” Dream twitched, his grip on his axe tightening and loosening in quick succession. A dark smile spread over Philza’s face at the movement, a deep chuckle escaping from his lips, “Did you really think we would leave our youngest to return somewhere alone?”

“And if I ban him?”

“Could you?” Dream’s head twisted to the side, all the answer Philza needed, “Move, Dream, or I’ll move you.” The young god stepped out of the way, pulling his friends along after him. The small family swept past the three and into the portal, vanishing in a burst of magic.

The land was silent for several long moments before Dream let out a breath and all but collapsed. “Fuck. I have no idea how we’re going to deal with this.” And the young God of Challenges didn’t. He had thought that Wilbur was just being influenced by the God of Madness, not that he was the God of Madness.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Dream looked into the eyes of one of his best friends, “We’ll figure it out, together. You aren’t alone, Dream.”

“Yeah, worst comes to worst we can see if any of the other Gods will help us.” Sapnap encouraged, “Now let’s go see how many were injured in the blasts.” The three of them made their way to the fairgrounds, only to find that the damage was minimal.

“Dream! George! Sapnap!” Their friends cried, Karl slamming into Sapnap’s arms. No one looked injured and there were no pot-marks from TNT exploding in the fairgrounds proper. In fact, the only area that seemed affected was the stage, which was seconds away from collapsing under it’s own weight.

“Did you guys manage to disarm the TNT in the area?” Sapnap asked, holding hie friend close. At the negative responses, confusion filled the eyes of the Dream Team.

“Why wouldn’t Wilbur have put TNT here? This is where pretty much everyone was? There was so much in the rest of Manburg!” George exclaimed. Rather then the teenager answering, it was the current president.

“Because Tommy would have been caught up in the blast.” Schlatt’s tired voice sounded out, all eyes turning to him, “And Soot wouldn’t do anything to hurt his baby brother.”

“What do you mean, Schlatt?” Fundy’s voice was hard, a war happening in his heart.

Schlatt snorted, looking at the gathered people, “I exiled Soot because I knew what he was, but I exiled the kid with him because I figured that he’d leave easily. Didn’t realize that he’d take it as a challenge.”

“What do you mean, take as a challenge?” Dream stepped forwards, a threat in his posture.

“I mean, once Soot gets found out or has his plans ruined, he vanishes and lets the madness continue without him. Thought I had him fooled enough that he’d just leave, didn’t realize just how much the kid cares about this place or how much he hates me.”

Schlatt sat down on one of the few remaining chairs that stayed upright, pulling out a flask and downing the contents, “Relax, it’s non-alcoholic.” He told Tubbo’s disappointed look, “Anyway, you saw how Soot reacted to the kid being hurt. After everything I heard him tell me, I figured he’d follow the kid.”

“He told you about Tommy?”

“Oh yeah, would not shut up about him and his brothers. Absolutely adores him, which is part of the reason we never clocked in that he was, you know, the God of Madness. Why would one of the cruelest gods care about a kid?” Schlatt let out a harsh laugh and downed half the flask.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Karl spoke up, confusion in his voice, “You knew Wilbur was the God of Madness?” Schlatt rolled his head and fixed Karl with a one-eyed stare.

“Think I’d remember the guy who all but tore my mind apart. There’s a reason Soot never saw me as a threat despite me stealing the presidency out from under him. Only reason I’m not as bad as he thought I was is ‘cause of an old friend.” He spat, the words dripping with poison.

No one dared say anything as Schlatt glared into the flask in his hand. Tubbo carefully sat next to him and pressed up against him, Schlatt’s other arm coming up to wrap around his shoulders. Tubbo buried his head into Schlatt’s shoulder, shaking with suppressed emotions.

“What… do we do now?” Fundy spoke, tail thrashing behind him. No one answered for a long moment. No one wanted to think about how someone that they had trusted, someone that they had looked up to, had never really thought of them as people.

They didn’t want to think about how the jokes and the speeches and the days spent together meant nothing in the end. Fundy didn’t want to think about how the man that had taken him under his wing had never cared for him.

“We wait and we deal with whatever comes, one thing at a time.”


	2. words to be said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations are long overdue and only luck means that they can be had...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2! don't expect chapter 3 to be anywhere as quick. also, didn't really want to write all of the conversations. can you tell i'm a lot better with descriptive writing and no set perspective?
> 
> i figured out links: [my tumblr](https://writerwinged.tumblr.com/)

Phil looks at his boys, all three of them, and curls his wings tighter around them. They’ve done this dozens of times, Tommy curled up against his chest and his brothers bracketing him, all held within his wings. How could they have denied what was so clear?

He bends forwards and places a kiss to blond hair, eyes closed and arms curled around his youngest. He knew the answer to that question. It was cowardice, cowardice that caused them to be willfully blind to the how deep into their hearts Tommy had wormed. It was cowardice that meant they nearly lost him.

He breathes, feeling his youngest’s soft exhales puff against his neck. Phil doesn’t move his head, still buried in his hair. He knows his other sons are still awake, too afraid that if they fall asleep, their little brother will still die. How funny, that they have come to this.

A God who watched with apathy, a God who felt no compassion and a God who delighted in breaking others, all here, the exact opposite of what they once were. All because of the boy in his arms, all because of Tommy.

Philza smiled sadly, he was really was a God of Kindness.

———

Techno didn’t move, his eyes still fixed upon his little brother. His face was no longer pale with blood loss, a healthy flush having returned to his cheeks. Still, Techno couldn’t shake the image of Tommy’s face paling as his blood slipped along the length of his sword.

Even when their father buried his face into Tommy’s curls, he doesn’t let his gaze shift from his face. He didn’t understand, not really, how this boy did what no one else could and made the Blood God love him. Techno did know that now, wasn’t going to run away from it anymore.

He curled tighter against his little brother’s back, his father’s arm a comforting weight against his chest. One of his arms was wrapped around Phil’s back, holding tightly to Wilbur’s and his other was curled against Tommy’s chest, resting over his beating heart.

For once, the Blood God would rather that blood stayed in the body then paint the world around it. For once, the Blood God sought to heal instead of harm.

Techno breathed, Tommy’s heartbeat loud and strong under his hand.

———

Wilbur had made sure that he was looking at his little brother’s face the instant Phil had sat down with him in his arms. He hadn’t even hesitated, pressing himself against his father’s shoulder and watching Tommy’s face. He couldn’t get the image of his eyes slowly dimming from his mind.

There was no more blood, no more tang of iron in the air. The wound had been wrapped and tended to, the bandage still clean. Wilbur could still see it, could still see the gushing blood, could still hear his baby brother’s gasping breathes. Techno’s sword had cut right between his ribs and into his lung. Tommy had been drowning in his own blood.

But now his breathes were unhindered, yet the fear still held a tight grasp on his heart. Is this what every one of his victims felt when then realized what he had done? Was this what Schlatt felt when he realized what Wilbur had made him into, when he looked at Tubbo at Techno’s feet and saw his death?

It was horrible, to feel this. In a way, Wilbur wished to tear it out, but his was the one mind he couldn’t effect, there would be no removing these feelings. He didn’t really mind, his world would be lesser without it. Without it, Tommy would have died in his arms, bleeding out.

Wilbur closed his eyes, grip tightening on Tommy’s hand and felt a faint squeeze back.

———

Once upon a time, there were three Gods. They were cruel because they chose to be, cast aside their compassion and reviled in the pain they caused mortals. More then that, they used it to cause more pain.

Once upon a time, these three Gods of cruelty and apathy found a boy in the snow and sought to play with him, as little more then a toy. But this boy was special, for even as they twisted and taught him, he chose compassion, day after day.

Once upon a time, for a little boy they’d adopted, three Gods relearned compassion. They relearned what it meant to be kind, to reach out even when they were hurting, to look with tears in their eyes and chose to be better.

What they were would never change easily, but it would. Over time, Survival would turn into Family, Blood into Growth, and Madness into Music. Over time, Kindness would leave his mark, and a little boy would continue to chose compassion.

———

Tommy slept, fear and pain having taken it’s toll on his body, a sleep of the bone-tired, of those that had fought and fought and won. Tommy dreamed as he slept, of a familiar house and a familiar place and a stone path leading to it.

The ground under the stones was red, the stones surrounded by obsidian and plants growing around the edges. The wind brought music, made from whispers of the plants, that sounded so familiar, like a song he’d only heard once. He followed the path as it wound around the house.

None of the stones shifted under his feet, held in place by the obsidian. The blood-red ground, when he stepped into it, squelched between his toes like mud. He continued to follow the path, content to just listen to the music coming through the plants.

Eventually, the path came to an end, the familiar house looming in front of Tommy. He paused at the point where the path melded into the porch, some feeling beginning to bubble up from his stomach and sending a stone of doubt and fear into his throat.

He stared at the door, the memories of the last few minutes, the pain and the fear and the hurt, swelling up and freezing him in place. His hand began to shake and his side began to hurt, tears welling up in his eyes. Despite all of that, he still reached out for the door and turned the knob.

He loved them still, they’d taken care of him for years, he just wanted to know why they did that. Tommy breathed in and out, pushed the door open, and blinked his eyes.

———

The family of Gods stayed curled up together, not quite yet willing to talk about what had happened, about the secrets that dwelled in the spaces between them. The youngest, the newest, was the center, the others bracketing him in with a desperation that spoke of the near-loss they had experienced. But all things come to an end, and some things must be faced.

“Why…” the young god whispered, not moving from where he had his face buried in his father’s chest. The Blood God’s hands flexed where he laid it over his baby brother’s chest and the Mad God’s breath caught in his throat.

“Going to have to clarify, mate. There’s a lot of answers to that question.” The Angel’s voice was just as quiet as his son’s and just as pained. The young god shuddered and turned to look at his father, tears glistening in the corner of his eyes.

“Why… why did you do that? Did… did you just not care?” the three Gods understood what was not said, the ‘do you not care about me?’ Wilbur let out a strangled sound and pressed closer to the youngest, knowing that his actions had cut the deepest.

“Tommy, Tommy, we love you. We’ve loved you since the day you came into our lives and that will never change. There is nothing you can do to make us stop loving you.” Phil swore, his wings curling in closer. Tommy blinked up at him, a few tears slipping from his eyes.

“But… but you… you’re…”

“Your family. Tommy, Toms, little brother, I know we’ve hurt you, me especially, but please, don’t ever think that we don’t love you.” Wilbur begged, tugging Tommy towards him and enveloping him in a hug. Tommy stayed quiet for several long heartbeats before nodding.

The talks would take days, the hurts uncovered and reopened and soothed. There would be screams and tears and words meant to harm, but there would also be whispers and reassurances and soft words. There would be no more denying the care the three eldest held for the youngest, not anymore.

———

(”I wanna go back.”

“To L’Manburg?”

“Yes.”

“…”

“It’s- It’s my fucking home just as much as the cottage is, Wil. And- And they’re our fucking friends.”

“…Alright.”)

(“We, all of us, were cowards, Tommy. We didn’t want to admit, even to ourselves, how much you mean to us. We didn’t want to admit that you made us want to be better.”

“How long?”

“Probably from the moment you wandered up to me in the middle of winter and told me my song was ‘pretty good.’ I don’t… I don’t think anyone other then Techno and Phil had ever complemented my music before and meant it.”

“Can’t really say. A bunch of little things, I guess. You stole my cape and curled up next to me while I was reading and I… it got real quiet.”

“When you didn’t complain about me telling you the same story for the fifth time in a row. You just… you were so awestruck, even after hearing it for the fifth time and knowing how it ends. I just… felt like I didn’t want anything to get rid of that look.”)


End file.
